Tima, the Creator God's Overlord Journey

"My MP has already run out." The tree demon's tone was strangely relaxed.

Whether it was Catalysis or Spirit Tree Creation, both were powerful skills that consumed a great deal of MP. In fact, her MP had long since been depleted.

"So you used [Life Sacrifice] to convert HP into MP?" The faerie dragon narrowed his eyes.

"We will disappear sooner or later. Rather than dissipating meaninglessly with the passage of time, it would be better to use this life to do something beneficial for Mother." As she spoke, the tree demon continued casting magic.

"Then I suppose this is as far as I go." The tree demon turned back with a satisfied smile. At the same time, her body began to disperse into motes of light from her toes upward.

"Then I'll leave the task of keeping watch over Mother to you." Those were the tree demon's final words.

"What an idiot." The faerie dragon sighed softly as he looked at the empty patch of grass before him.

Ever since his birth, he had been calculating how much longer he could remain. Before Aya awakened, he would probably disappear as well.

"Then until that time comes, I'll take on the task of protecting her."

The time had come. The faerie dragon raised his head and realized that his body was slowly becoming translucent. He shook his head helplessly.

Though he did not want to disturb Mother's rest, it would be safer to wake her. The faerie dragon raised his head, intending to unleash a dragon roar.

"There's no need." A gentle, beautiful voice entered his ears. The faerie dragon felt two pairs of hands gently stroking his scales.

Was it Mother? No... ah, so that was how it was.

At ease, the faerie dragon lay down peacefully on the ground and enjoyed the caresses.

"You've worked hard. From here on, leave Mother to us to protect."

Chapter Six: Illusory Dream

"Let me tell you a story." Such a voice echoed beside Aya's ear.

"A story?" She opened her eyes, only to find herself immersed in an ocean. There was nothing around her, only darkness, yet it was not frightening. On the contrary, it was exceptionally warm—warm enough to put one at ease.

"This is the story of a mother." The soft voice continued, and the scene before Aya changed.

It was the beginning of the world. A mother was born from the ocean, and she created the gods. They were her children, and she loved them more than herself. Yet her children turned their weapons upon their mother for dominion over the world.

Heartbroken, the mother created eleven new demonic beasts in her madness and led them into battle against the gods.

But in the end, she still failed. Her children abandoned her and exiled her to a space of imaginary numbers, where she endured endless solitude.

The mother was unnecessary—that was what her children decided. A new order and ecosystem had already been established, so there was no longer any need for her, who created life at random.

Now, she was merely an obstacle preventing her children from obtaining this planet's knowledge.

The Mother Goddess, abandoned after creating the world, drifted through the inner side of the world, clutching twisted hatred and love as she waited for an opportunity, yearning to return to her children's side.

At last, she found an opening. At a singularity where even time, space, and logic were distorted, she returned to this world, carrying the hatred, resentment, and grief of having been discarded after being used up.

She waged war against the lives that had declared, "We no longer need you." Driven by her primal instinct of hatred, she used her authority to alter the world's ecosystem and placed a curse upon herself: "The old world must be destroyed."